Years from now, I hope I remember the sweet way my 2-year-old said certain words. I hope I remember the vacations and family memories. The way we surprised my 5-year-old with a puppy after she’d asked nearly every day for 2 years if we could get a dog. I hope I remember the way they play with my hair and hold my face when they give kisses. The way the sing at the top of their lungs in the car and when they’re putting on a performance in our living room. I hope I remember all of those sweet sweet things.
I hope I also remember how stinkin’ HARD parenting in the early years was. How I desperately needed breaks, time to be by myself, and silence. How long the days could be, especially when they weren’t sleeping through the night and/or when my husband was traveling. How humbling it is to have to carry your child surfboard style under your arm out of a store or social gathering. How I answered the same question 500 times within an hour. How I often felt like I was talking to the wall because no.one.listened.to.me.
Why do I want to remember the hard? So in 40 years I’m not the one saying, ‘You’re going to miss this!’ as a young child throws a tantrum somewhere. No, that mama is probably not going to miss that embarrassing and insanely frustrating moment. Will she miss the age? Absolutely! Will she miss the life stage? I’m sure! But being at her wit’s end after having her authority undermined – probably for the 20th time that day – in a public place? Doubt she’ll miss that. I also hope I remember what I so desperately needed in this stage so that I can offer that kind of help to my daughters when they, Lord willing, have children of their own some day. I want to be a grandparent that steps in and says, “I’m sure you could use a break – can they come play at my house while you run to the grocery store? Or while you sit in silence and do nothing…I’d get that, too!” (And let me throw in, my mom does a GREAT job of this. I am eternally thankful.) Heck, I want to be a mom of high schoolers who, when I’m not needed as constantly and in the same way as I am now by my own children, offers a new mama a meal, or a coffee, or a chance to shower without worrying about whether the baby is crying.
I want to remember the good and the bad so that years from now I have eyes that see the needs of young moms around me who are in the chaotic stage. So that rather than saying, “It will get better!” or “This is only a season, it will be over before you know it,” I’ll say, “This is really hard and I’m here for you.” Because as a mom who’s in that stage, I know it’s far more helpful.
I just hope I always remember that.
Photo Credit: T.Marie Photography
